Her dress fitted snug around her body and her hair styled in the Northern braids, Sansa smiled at herself in the mirror while one of the servant girls pulled the laces on the back of her dress before tying the knots. It had been nearly thirty minutes since Sansa recalled anymore images form her dream and silently hoped she wouldn't have any more.
'After all, I can't have the Prince think I'm strange,' Sansa thought to herself before looking over her shoulder at the girl, Ryla, who stepped back and nodded her head at her Lady. "Thank you, Ryla. You may leave."
"My Lady," the young brown-haired girl bowed slightly before leaving out the door. Sansa stared at the closing door before she sighed and then thought about what she could talk to the Prince about. Sansa turned back to the mirror to take another look at the dress when she suddenly stepped back in surprise at the image before her. Sansa closed her eyes tight and said a prayer to the Seven when she caught a glimpse of an older redhead in a black dress with a silver dire wolf embraided on the chest while a black cloak similar to the one her father would wear was draped around her shoulders.
'No, no,' Sansa thought shaking her head while she closed her eyes tight, 'it. It's just my imagination. Just my imagination.' Sansa opened her eyes to see herself, as she was now, looking back at her. She tried to calm her racing heart while recalling the face looking back at her- a face with a cold expression. Sansa controlled her breathing as she tried to calm down once again, 'it was all a dream. It was a vivid dream, but a dream nonetheless.' She turned towards the door and walked to it in small strides, just as she was taught a lady should do. Walking into the hallway, she closed her door behind her and wondered where her Direwolf, Lady, was located, 'probably playing with the other wolves'. Sansa walked though the hallway, her slippers 'click-clacking' on the stone floor as hse made her way down to the Great Hall.
The more she neared the Great Hall, the more she could hear the sound of utensils 'clacking' together, as well as the sounds of voices being carried in the air. Nearing the entrance to the Hall, Sansa could smell the chicken, pork, potatoes and bread along with a mixture of several other food that wafted into her nostrils. Smiling at the thought that the only reason for such a great midday feast being the presence of the Royal Family, Sansa smiled as she walked into the large stone walled hall. As she entered, she heard the sounds of padded feet running towards her- looking down, she smiled at Lady running at her.
"Lady," Sansa whispered before bringing her hand to the top of her direwolves head and rubbing the fur gently. She looked into Lady's eyes as the direwolf sat on her hind legs and panted, "were you playing with…."
"I hate you!" Sansa closed her eyes again as Arya's shrill voice appeared in her mind, "I hate you. You lied… you lied! Lier!"
And just as the voice appeared, it simply trailed off. Sansa heard a whining sound, so she opened her eyes and saw Lady staring back at her with her head tilted. Sansa could see the questioning look in those eyes asking silently if she was alright.
"It was just a dream," Sansa whispered to her direwolf before she looked towards the High Table at Myrcella and Tommen Baratheon with their backs to her, Tyrion sitting across from them and drinking from a mug. And beside the one Sansa called the imp, sat her love- Prince Joffrey Baratheon, the future king of the seven kingdoms. 'That was just a bad dream. My Prince would never harm my father or myself.' Thinking to herself, Sansa began walking towards the High Table surrounded by some of the Kingsguard. Sansa looked around, her eyes scanning the room; she saw Robb sitting next to an unhappy Arya, 'she wanted to go hunting with father and the king'; and then her eyes shifted to her mother, Catelyn Stark who waved Sansa towards the table with the toddler, Rickon, seated next to her laughing. Sansa smiled at her mother and increased her strides towards the table with Lady walking next to her. Her mother had told her children that she did not want the direwolves in the Great Hall, especially during meals with the Royal Family, but there was no way to place the wolves other than keeping them in the kennels. It was something that the Stark trueborn children protested against.
So, the wolves were allowed to roam in the castle as long as the children were with them.
Sansa's eyes shifted to the figure seated away from the Royal Family at the table closest to the far wall. 'Half-brother,' she thought looking away while he fed his direwolf, Ghost, under the table and at the same time speaking with their uncle Benjen Stark. Sansa focused on the table and noticed that the Queen and her brother, Ser Jamie of the Kingsguard, were not present, as was Bran.
Sansa didn't think too much of it. Instead, she smiled at the Prince who nodded at her before patting the empty place next to him. She strode towards him after placing her hand on Catelyn's shoulder.
"Ah, Lady Sansa," Tyrion raised his mug as the redhead prepared to sit down next to his nephew, "how nice to see you again."
"My Lord," Sansa curtsied.
"Hello, Wife," Sansa stared at Tyrion with wide eyes as he transformed before her very eyes; the figure in front of her was now dressed in fine leather with a brooch over his left breast. The man in front of her now had a scar on his face as he continued to speak. "May I introduce to you, Daenerys Targaryen, the true Queen of the Seven Kingdoms." Sansa laid her eyes upon a beautiful woman with silver hair, lilac eyes, and wearing a silver dress covered by a black and grey furred cloak. And just as the image appeared in her mind, it vanished once again. However, for some reason, she felt a deep seated anger upon hearing that name – a name that she shouldn't have any emotions towards since the person associated with that name was far away across the Narrow Sea.
"Sansa?" Robb asked noticing Sansa, her hand now on his shoulder trembling, "Sansa?" Catelyn, Arya, while Rickon was playing with the small bite sized portion of food on his plate, stared at Sansa upon hearing Robb call out for her, "Sansa?" Robb looked down at her hand, and then back up at the pale stare in her eyes.
"Lady Sansa?" Myrcella said while Tommen stared confused, "are you alright?"
"Sansa," Robb raised his voice placing his hand on hers. His voice was enough for even Benjen and Jon to stare at the High Table just as Sansa shook her head and looked back at Rob, "are you…"
"I am fine, Robb," Sansa said before looking away while thinking, 'Wife? Did the imp call me wife? Why would anyone ever marry him? And in what dram would a Lady like me ever marry a dwarf?' But Sansa knew she had been staring at Tyrion, and her mother's training as a Lady finally kicked in.
"My apologies, my Lord," Sansa nodded her head at Tyrion.
Tyrion chuckled with a glint in his eyes before saying, "I thank you for staring at the half-man, I mean it's more than anyone of your station would do. But I do have to ask, is there something in my teeth? Or…"
"No, my Lord," Sansa shook her head at Tyrion before saying, "I… I just thought…" Sansa looked at her mother, and then at Robb, and then at Rickon and back at Tyrion, "I just thought…."
"I am very much away of my lack of stature," Tyrion chuckled before gulping down some wine, "and you thought I was a monster."
"I… no, my Lord," Sansa stopped talking before she thought about the Tyrion she had seen in her dream, 'he looked tired and wary. As if he had seen battle and… and war. And I just insulted him by staring and… and no… I cannot sabotage myself and the Prince being together.' Sansa just shook her head before saying, "I do believe you will be a great warrior one day, my Lord."
"Thank you for the jest," Tyrion chuckled before pouring himself some wine while Joffrey scoffed. Sansa glanced at the look of surprise from her family as she took her seat next to Joffrey. But before she could say anything, there was a distant howl that had everyone looking at each other and then at the entrance to the Great Hall as Greywind who was sitting under the table, Lady, Ghost, Nymeria and Shaggydog all took off out the Hall.
"Mother!" Sansa closed her eyes as she gripped the edge of the table with a gasp, the image of herself running down a hallways suddenly caused her heart to race. Sansa breathed hard as she, from her own point of view, saw and felt herself running through one hallway and another.
Upon hearing the gasp, Tyrion looked up from his wine and narrowed his eyes at Sansa as her grip on the table edge started to whiten her knuckles. "Lady Sansa?"
Hearing Tyrion speak, Robb turned to him, and then his eyes followed his gaze to his sister. "Sansa," Robb said as he got off his seat just as Sansa stopped trembling and she blinked her eyes before looking around, "Sansa?"
"Sansa, what is happening? I saw you trembling, and…" Catelyn asked before being able to complete her question.
"Where's Bran?" Sansa asked panting as sweat covered her forehead, the very same sweat that gathered while she had the images of herself running through the hallways of Winterfell while panting before reaching a room where her father stood with her crying mother. And now, Sansa could remember walking into the room where Bran lay as still as a statue, his little body covered in furs to keep him warm. And that's when she found herself back in the Great Hall with everyone looking back at her. "Where's Bran? Where's Bran?" she asked.
"Probably being a spider monkey somewhere," Joffrey said before turning back to eating his food.
"Joff," Myrcella chided him, "she's worried about her…."
"Do you want to continue with what you are about to say?" Joffrey growled before staring at Myrcella who looked away and slumped her shoulders forward.
"Bran fell from the broken tower and… and I am afraid he will be unable to walk again," Sansa saw, in her mind, Ned say as a pain shot through her head while she was seated at the table. She brought her hands to the side of her head and fell onto her knees as Robb, Catelyn, and Tyrion got off their seats while Tommen and Myrcella stared in stunned silence with their eyes widened; the latter rushing around the table. The sound of Catelyn's yells for Sansa, and then for Maester Luwin, had Benjen and Jon on their feet and then rushing towards the High Table. AS the two of them neared the table, Jon noticed the cold glare from Catelyn, but ignored it, as he followed Benjen up the steps while Robb was at Sansa's side as she lay unconscious on the floor.
"Robb?" Jon said. Robb looked up at Jon, confusion etched on his face, just as everyone heard a man yell.
"Lady Stark! Lady Stark!" Jory rushed into the Great Hall and searched for Catelyn who was standing among a group of other people. He rushed to the redhead, unaware that something had happened to Sansa, and as he neared, "Lady Stark, it's Lord Bran. Something's happened."
Winterfell, four hours later.
"You killed them!" Sansa hissed walking towards the covering figure before her. "You burned Bran and Rickon. You killed them. You betrayed us, Theon. You…"
"No… not Theon. Reek. I am Reek," the covering figure shook his head.
"You are Theon Greyjoy!" Sansa stepped forward and grabbed the covering figure's shoulders and shook his body hard, "you are Theon Greyjoy!"
"I am Reek!" the figure cried out with tears in his eyes before he shook off Sansa's hands and stepped back. Sansa's heart raced at the thought of her younger brothers' bodies hanging n Winterfell's central square while Theon and the rest of the Ironborn drank and celebrated at the fall of the castle. As she stared at Theon, who was trembling in fear and shaking his head with his shoulders and back hunched forwards, Sansa heard him repeat "I am Reek."
"You betrayed us," Sansa said, "you betrayed Robb, you betrayed mother, you betrayed father, you betrayed me." At that, Theon looked up at her as tears streamed down his face, "and you killed Bran and Rickon. You… Why? Tell me why?!"
Theon continued to shake his head.
"Why?" Sansa narrowed her eyes and rolled her hand into fists. "Why?"
"No… no…." Theon closed his eyes and shook his head.
"Why? Theon. Why?" Sansa repeated herself a she strode forward and grabbed his upper arm, "why!"
"I didn't…" Theon whispered between hiccups as he tried to stop himself from sobbing, "I.. I didn't."
"You didn't what?" hissed Sansa, "you didn't…"
"Bran and Rickon are alive!" he cried before looking away as Sansa had her eyes open in shock, "they are…"
"My little dove."
"My brother is a traitor."
"My mother taught me to never hit a lady. Ser Meryn?"
"Is this how a knight treats a child!?"
Sansa snapped her eyes open before sitting up and then looking around. She was panting hard while the sharp pain in her head was now simply a dull ache. The redhead found herself back in her room with Lady climbing up to her bed and then licking her face before laying down beside her. Sansa's heart was racing as she placed her hand on Lady's fur while trying to remember what happened.
'I was in the Great Hall for my midday meal and then… and then the images in my dream came forth again. And now… now I had more dreams… and so vivid that…' Sansa recalled the dreams in her mind, 'the image of father's head on a spike, the knight slapping me with his gloved hand, and then… no… it was a dream.' Sansa moved to remove her fur lined covers so that she could turn her body and then get off her bed. However, when she tried to turn her body, there was a stinging pain from her right thigh to her hip. It was just then that she felt something warm and liquid trickle onto her chin from her bottom lip. Sansa brought her hand up and pressed it against her bottom lip. When she pulled back her hand, she stared at the dark red liquid on the tip of her trembling fingers.
'What? Is.. is this… is this blood?' Sansa thought shaking her head. 'I.. I must have bit my bottom lip when I dreamt about that knight slapping me with the back of his hand. I.. yes… that's what happened. That is…'
It was then that the door to Sansa's room opened. Turning her head, the bottom lip still bleeding, she laid her eyes on a surprised Jeyne Poole.
"Sansa!" Jayne explained upon seeing her best friend not just awake, but bleeding from her lip. She grabbed a piece of cloth from the side table and rushed to Sansa's side. She dabbed the cloth on Sansa's lip and asked, her face etched with worry, what had happened, "why are you bleeding?"
"I must have…," Sansa stopped talking when Jayne pulled back the cloth and she stared at the blood, "I must have bit my lip when I… I…" Jeyne then folded the cloth and placed it back on Sansa's lip.
"Sorry, but you were still bleeding," Jeyne said before pulling the cloth away, "I'll try to slow down the bleeding before calling for Maester Luwin since he's a little busy, and…" Jeyne then looked away from Sansa and looked at Lady who was looking up sadly as her mistress. Jeyne turned back to Sansa and pulled away the cloth before whispering, "Bran.. Bran… he was climbing and…" Sansa's eyes opened wide as she recalled that image of Ned Stark telling his children that Bran fell from the broken tower, "and he fell from the Broken Tower." Sansa shook her head before looking away. She was panting now as her heart raced at the thought of her younger brother lying at the foot of the tower. But it was the last part of what Jeyne said that had Sansa stare in utter shock, "I heard from the staff, especially the ones bringing water to Maester Luwin in Bran's room, that Bran would never walk again."
"No," Sansa whispered as she recalled the image from her dream of Bran lying still on his dead covered by furs.
"The bleeding seems to have stopped," Jeyne said, "I'll go call for your Lady Mother, and…"
"Jeyne, I… argh!" Sansa cried out in pain as she tried to turn her body again to get off the bed.
"Sansa?" Jeyne worriedly asked as she watched her friend lie on her side, her head on a worried looking Lady, as she pressed her hand on her thigh.
"Hurts," Sansa whispered, "why does it hurt?"
Jeyne rushed to Sansa's side and quickly lifted the hem on her dress up while lowering the side of her petticoat. Immediately, Jeyne placed her hand over her mouth as she stepped back with her eyes wide open at what she was looking at. Sansa noticed the look on Jeyne's face through her own tear covered eyes, tears from the pain that emanated on her right side, and asked, "Jeyne? What.. what is it?"
"A… a mark…" Jeyne whispered as she stepped forward, her body trembled at the black and blue bruise that travelled from Sansa's hip to the side of her knee, "a bruise. I.. Sansa, what did you do? How did you get this mark?"
"What mark?"
"It.. it looks like the blunt edge of.. of a sword," Jeyne said recalling the bruises she would sometimes see on her father, the steward of Winterfell, after he used to train with Ser Rodrick. A requirement for the males in the event that the castle was attacked. Jeyne stared at the bruise and then back at Sansa who was just as shocked.
'My.. my dream. I dreamt that a knight tore my clothes off in court. That Joffrey was sitting on the Iron Throne laughing at me. The Ladies and Knights were standing around me while that one knight slammed his sword into my thigh. I… what is happening to me?' Sansa shook her head, "dream… dream…"
"Sansa?" Jeyne asked.
"I… I think I am going mad, Jeyne," Sansa said, "I.. I had a dream that Bran fell. I.. I dreamt that I was slapped, I dreamt that…" Sansa stopped talking and looked away from the stunned Jeyne and whispered, "I'm going mad. It has to be madness. It.. it was just a dream. Just a dream."
"I'm calling your Lady Mother," Jeyne said before rushing out of the room while Sansa lay on her side and whispered with tears falling on Lady's fur since the redhead lay her head on her Direwolf.
"Just a dream. Just a dream. All just a dream. Is this a dream? Am I dreaming now?"
TBC